Save me from my darkest days
by Inkognito97
Summary: Since his mother's death, Desmond's life was a mess. Being send from one foster family to the next, without friends or somebody who really cares. Now it is Altair's turn to take in the young boy, who is also his younger brother. The problem, until recently neither of the brothers knew the other even existed. Inspired by: "A New Life" from NyotaBaggins221B
1. Train to Nowhere

**AN:** This story is inspired by NyotaBaggins221B's story "A New Life".

You have to check it out, it is really awesome!

 **Disclaimer:** Sadly I do not own Assassin's Creed or any of its characters.

* * *

1\. Train to Nowhere

Desmond's head was leaning against the cold window of the train. It was raining outside. Normally the rain was calm and comfortable in Desmond's opinion, but not today.

"Only two more stops then we are there." Jean Amber, Desmond's social worker, said from the seat next to him. "Aren't you excited?"

"No." was the emotionless reply from Desmond.

Desmond was neither excited nor happy about his current situation. Once more he had to travel to god knows where to somebody he didn't know.

This whole mess had started when Desmond's mother had died a few years ago. Since then he was forced to live with foreign people who were supposed to be his foster family. Desmond almost huffed at the thought. Up until now, all these people had been great disappointments and Desmond had lost count after five families that send him back. He wasn't inclined to believe that it would be different now. Nobody could stand him for long.

"But you have to be at least a little bit excited." Jean said enthusiastically.

She was more or less the only person on this planet that seemed to like Desmond. She actually wanted to adopt him herself, unfortunately her husband hated Desmond.

"Why should I?" Desmond asked in return.

"Have you already forgotten where we are heading?" When she did not get an answer from Desmond, she continued, "Come on, we are heading to your brother, I think Altair was his name. I would be more than excited to meet my brother, especially when I did not know that I even had one."

"I guess."

Jean sighed. "Oh Desmond, what am I to do with you?"

Desmond didn't reply to that, he continued to watch the landscape instead.

"Well let's see," Jean said and rummaged through her papers, "your brother's name is Altair Ibn-La'Ahad. I just hope I said that correctly. I think this was your mother's name before she married your father. He is 22 years old, seven years older than you, and is currently visiting a college. He owns a bunk house not far from town, it should be rather quiet then. This sounds promising to me."

Desmond barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Of course Jean had already known all of these things, otherwise they wouldn't be travelling there. It's not as if Desmond doesn't appreciate her help, but she didn't quite understand that he didn't care about any of these things. The only thing he wanted, was his own family back and it didn't matter that technically this Altair was his family. From what Desmond had gathered, Altair had chosen to live with their grandparents, who were also dead now.

"I do not see how this changes something at the fact that he does not want anything to do with me."

"How can you say that?" Jean asked horrified, "He wouldn't have agreed to take you in, if he didn't care about you."

"If you say so..." Desmond didn't sound convinced at all.

"At least try to be nice and give him a chance, alright? Do it for me." Jean added as an afterthought.

Desmond sighed in defeat. "Alright."

"Good boy." She playfully ruffled the teenager's hair and this time, Desmond didn't stop himself from groaning in annoyance.

It was this moment when a voice through the speakers informed Desmond and Jean that they had to get out at the next stop. Desmond mentally sighed, before getting up and handing Jean her bag from the luggage rack. She thanked him and gave him a smile, before turning back to her papers. Meanwhile Desmond took his suitcase from the luggage rack and prayed, to whoever would listen, that this visit wouldn't be as bad as the last one.

* * *

So, I hope you liked it so far.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

Yours truly


	2. First Meeting

2\. First Meeting

It hadn't stopped raining when Jean and Desmond exited the train station. The latter had pulled the hood from his favourite black hoodie over his head as a protection from the raindrops, while he and Jean quickly hurried to the next available cap. The drive took fifteen minutes and they soon found themselves standing before an inconspicuous little house. Jean, who obviously didn't want to spend another second in the rain, walked up to the door and ringed. They didn't have to wait long for the door to open.

Curiously Desmond let his gaze wander through the hallway, while he put down his suitcase. Jean was meanwhile speaking with the homeowner.

"Desmond," Jean called for his attention, "come here."

Desmond did as he was told and stepped next to his social worker.

"Desmond, meet Altair Ibn-La'Ahad," she motioned towards the man and Desmond finally looked up, "Altair, this is Desmond Miles."

Jean looked expectantly at the two males, who just silently observed each other.

Altair was at least a head taller than Desmond. He was casually dressed in blue jeans and a white t-shirt. His posture was tense, but what Desmond really shocked, was the man's face. Altair looked exactly like Desmond, just a little bit older and he had a little scar running over his lips. His unusual gold eyes seemed cold when he looked Desmond over and the teenager felt suddenly nervous and uncomfortable under the scrutinizing graze.

"Well, the first step is always the hardest, but I guess you will soon become used to each other." Jean tried to ease the tension in the room.

Altair's gaze stayed a moment longer locked on Desmond, before his eyes flickered to Jean.

"Anything I need to know?" the man asked in a rather deep and accented voice.

"Excuse me?" Jean asked confused.

"Does he need any medicaments, does he have allergies or are there any appointments I should know about."

Jean thought for a moment, before answering: "There are no medicaments Desmond needs to take and there shouldn't be any allergies either. About the appointments, I will check on him in a few days, I won't say when, because it has to be an unexpected visit."

Altair hummed in agreement.

"I think this is everything then." She turned to Desmond. "If there are problems, don't hesitate to call me, alright Desmond?"

Desmond nodded in understanding and escorted Jean to the door.

"Behave and try to smile." Jean teased the younger male.

"I'll do my best." Desmond whispered as a reply.

"We'll see in a few days." She waved her goodbye and hurried back to the cab that was still waiting before the house, leaving Desmond alone with his so called brother.

* * *

Altair had been more than surprised when a call from a social worker came, especially when it turned out that he had a younger brother, a few years younger than he was. The social worker, her name had been Jean Amber, only said that his and Desmond's mother had died and that Desmond now needed a place to stay. Altair almost immediately agreed. He hadn't parted with his parents on good terms, at least if he remembered correctly. He had been very young back then after all. Most of what he remembered was what his grandparents had told him. It wasn't the boy's fault however, so Altair saw no reason not to take him. Even though he hadn't the slightest idea of what would await him, but Altair was sure his grandmother would have done the same.

When the social worker and his brother were on their way to his home, Altair started to doubt his decision. He had absolute no idea of how to raise a teenager, nor was he very keen on meeting him. He hadn't even known that he had a brother for over twenty years and Altair maybe was even a little afraid that Desmond would look like his mother. Because, if Altair was completely honest with himself, he regretted never again making contact with his mother to finally settle thinks. Now it was too late and Altair wasn't sure if he could bear looking in the kid's face and see his mother in there.

It turned out that his concerns had been in vain, because it turned out that Desmond looked exactly like a copy of him. The only differences were the dark brown eyes, the missing scar and the younger features. Desmond was at least a head smaller than Altair was. He wore a black hoodie with the hood pulled up and brown jeans.

Altair barely got what the social worker was saying, he was more focused on his new room mate. After a moment however, Altair eventually turned towards the woman, who looked a little bit too enthusiastically for Altair's liking.

"Anything I need to know?" Altair eventually asked.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked obviously confused and Altair mentally sighed in annoyance.

"Does he need any medicaments, does he have allergies or are there any appointments I should know about." He clarified.

"There are no medicaments Desmond needs to take and there shouldn't be any allergies either. About the appointments, I will check on him in a few days, I won't say when, because it has to be an unexpected visit."

Altair hummed in agreement, the boy was healthy and he had not to worry about such things at least.

"I think this is everything then. If there are problems, don't hesitate to call me, alright Desmond?" the woman said and headed towards the door, the boy in tow.

They exchanged a few more sentences, but Altair didn't catch the content.

 _Probably just saying goodbye, or something I am not supposed to catch._

When the woman finally had left, Altair wasn't sure if he liked her, the boy stood awkwardly in the hallway, avoiding Altair's gaze.

"So… hey." Altair wanted to slap himself for such a stupid attempt of making small talk.

Desmond looked up, but his gaze immediately turned away again.

"Hey." He the teenager whispered.

"How was your ride here?" Altair tried.

"Alright, I guess." Desmond replied, still without looking at him.

"You guess? What's that supposed to mean?" Altair raised an eyebrow, but Desmond didn't reply, just shrugged.

Altair sighed and started to massage his brow, he could feel a headache forming. _What have I gotten myself into?_

"Grab your things, I am going to show you your room."

At least that seemed to get Desmond's full attention, because the boy's head snapped up abruptly and he looked truly baffled: "I get my own room?"

"Yes…? Or do you prefer sleeping on the couch?" it was meant as a joke, but Desmond's eyes widened in shock for a moment and he quickly shook his head.

"No, it's just that I… um… never mind." The looked back to the floor, almost ashamed or embarrassed.

 _What was that about?_

"Come on then." Altair just said and took the suitcase. "Is this really everything you got?"

"Yes."

Altair chose to not comment on that, even though he found it worrisome that a teenager owned only so little things.

Altair sat the suitcase down next to the bed and looked at the younger boy, who was curiously looking around.

"Nothing special and maybe a little cold and empty…" Altair said and also looked around the spartanly furnished room, "but at least you can set it up as you like."

Desmond nodded and Altair turned to walk out of the room. He stopped himself on the doorstep and turned around once more to the teenager who was watching him with an unreadable expression.

"If you are hungry, just tell me and I'll make you something. We will discuss everything else tomorrow, it's late and I am sure you want to unpack and take a look at the place. Just don't go into my room, it's the one opposite from yours."

"Alright and… thanks."

Altair nodded and finally left the room to sit back down at the kitchen table where he had been studying before his new room mate arrived. _Why do I have the feeling that he not just thanked me for the room?_ Altair sighed and shook his head to clear his head, before focusing on the books again.

* * *

This time a larger chapter! ^^ Hope you liked it.

Please leave a comment!


	3. Almost every problem has a solution

3\. Almost every problem has a solution

The first thing Desmond did, was to lay down on his bed and stare at the white ceiling. Altair, even though he and especially his eyes were a little intimidating, seemed rather friendly. But at the beginning, his last foster parents had seemed nice as well, later however… Desmond furiously shook his head, causing his hood to slide down. He didn't want to think about the past too much. It had happened and there was nothing he could do to change that fact.

He stretched and got back up again and looked once more around the room. He was not sure what to do with himself now. Of course he could unpack his things, but from experience he knew that it was more often than not a waste of effort. Barely unpacked, he often could pack up again and leave the place. Desmond wasn't really eager to experience it again, so he decided to leave his clothes in the suitcase for not. Living out of the suitcase was nothing new for him after all. There were only a handful of things he would unpack, like his toothbrush for an instance. The rest would follow when he knew that Altair wasn't going to dumb him as well.

Desmond put his hood back over his hood, he always felt safe with it on and thought on what to do. His phone was unfortunately low on battery and he had to charge it, before it would do him any good. So Desmond eventually decided to look for Altair, Jean had asked him to give the man a chance after all and Desmond would stay true to his promise. He sighed and finally left the room.

He eventually found the older man sitting in the kitchen, hunched over a table full of books and scribbles notes. He seemed deep in thoughts, but also slightly annoyed at something and Desmond was unsure if he should approach the man, so he settled for leaning against the doorframe and observing him for now.

* * *

Not much time had when Desmond entered the kitchen were Altair was currently trying to solve a task in his book, but failing terrible. He sighed frustrated and eventually looked up, finding the teenager standing in the doorway, silently observing him.

 _How long was he standing there without me noticing?_

"Hey, already finished with unpacking?" Altair asked, sat his pen down and leaned back in his chair.

Desmond nodded and curiously looked around the kitchen.

"Are you hungry or thirsty? Or do you need something else?" Altair tried again, not really expecting a real answer.

"No, I am fine… what are you doing?"

 _That's a beginning._

"Trying to solve a task, but I can't find my mistake. You can sit down if you want. I am not going to bite, you know."

Desmond grimaced, but slowly approached the table and eventually sat down opposite of Altair. He laid his arms on the table and was looking at Altair's notes.

"You forgot the binomial formula." Desmond eventually said after a moment of silence.

"What binomial formula?"

Desmond pointed at the functional equation at the top of the page.

"But the exponent is three…"

"It's still a binomial formula, you just have to dissolve the clamp differently… shall I show you?" Desmond hesitantly asked.

Altair looked up at the teenager, who was nervously fidgeting with his hood. _Why is he so nervous? He isn't afraid, because he pointed out my mistake, is he?_

"Sit next to me and show me!" Altair encouraged.

Desmond was obviously tense when he sat down next to the older male. Altair handed him a pen and a paper and Desmond was about to start writing, when he suddenly stopped and took the pen in his right hand instead in his left.

When Altair looked quizzically at him, Desmond shrugged and said: "You wouldn't see anything otherwise."

"You are left-hander?"

"I prefer my left hand, but I am almost equally good with both hands."

 _Just like me then…_

Altair hummed in agreement and focused his attention then to the things Desmond was writing down. He started with the derivation of the formula and showed an example afterwards.

"I can't believe that I get tutoring from my little brother… how old are you again?" Altair asked after Desmond had finished.

"Fifteen."

Altair had hummed in reply and turned back to his task. At the corner of his eyes he watched Desmond, who was curiously and almost shyly looking through Altair's other notes. The older boy didn't mind, at least the teenager was entertained then. Desmond eventually stopped at one page.

"Is that an electrical circuit?" Altair looked up at the question and looked at the page Desmond was holding out to him.

"Yeah, we had to draw a circuit with a mistake for out partner to find. Think you can spot it?" Altair didn't really expect the teenager to find the mistake; he was even more surprised when Desmond answered after less than ten minutes.

"The ground is missing, or in other words the safety measures."

Altair was stunned for a moment and could only gawk at the boy. "That's incredible. My partner needed a whole hour to find that mistake… where did you learn all this?"

Desmond put the paper back to its place and from what Altair could make out under the boy's hood which hid half of his face, he suddenly looked rather sad.

"Mother sometimes took me with her to her work." Desmond whispered and pulled his legs up, so that his feet were resting on the chair and he could embrace his knees with his arms.

Altair thought for a moment. _When I remember correctly, mother had worked as an electrician…_

"Sorry, shouldn't have asked that."

Desmond only shrugged and turned his face away from Altair.

 _Great, now I've done it. I knew I wasn't cut out for this._ Altair didn't know how to react, he never was the one to comfort people.

* * *

Desmond should have expected this question, but he didn't. He answered nonetheless, and felt immediately terrible afterwards. Memories of his formers life with his mother filled mind and when he felt tears starting to form in his eyes, he swiftly turned his head away from him. He didn't cry however, he hadn't done so in years and wouldn't do so anytime soon.

Silence filled the room, only Altair's scribbling and page turning could be heard in the room.

 _What he must think of me know?_ Desmond wondered.

He finally decided he couldn't take the silence anymore, so he got up and forced himself to walk normally out of the room. Desmond didn't look back, but he knew Altair's eyes were following him.

* * *

I hope you liked this chapter.

Please leave a comment and tell me what you think! ^^


	4. Blood is thicker than wash water

4\. Blood is thicker than wash water

The next day Desmond had slept till midday. Altair had been seemingly amused by this. He had fed Desmond, who didn't want to east anything, but was forced to eat the pancakes Altair had made him. As soon as Desmond was fully awake, Altair had explained the house rules. Desmond was allowed to go out as long as he informed Altair. Desmond was supposed to come back home until ten o'clock in the evening. Altair had said Desmond would have to sleep outside otherwise. The latter wasn't sure if it was meant as a joke, but he had no desire to test it out. And last but not least, Desmond was supposed to clean after himself.

 _Easy enough._ Desmond had thought.

After that Altair explained that he had to go to college for the next week until he had holidays this meant Altair had to wake up soon in the day. After college he would work, but Desmond didn't ask where.

The next few days were rather uneventful. Altair was gone for most of the time, either in college or working shifts. Desmond however didn't mind, he spent most of his time in his little room and listening to music anyway.

Desmond felt uneasy about Altair. It was not as if Altair tried to force him into anything, except having breakfast that is, but he seemed strange. It was almost as if these golden eyes were penetrating his very soul, trying to find answers Desmond wasn't sure he was willing to give.

Altair had tried to get information out of Desmond. He had been doing it subtle and without any form of force, but he had tried. Desmond had to give the older male a little credit however, because as soon as Altair noticed Desmond's discomfort, he would stop his attempts and promptly change the subject.

Altair seemed to be curious by nature and there had been a time, when Desmond was too. He had learned his lessons however and when Altair had asked him one evening, if Desmond wanted to know anything about him, the younger male had just shaken his head and resumed eating. He felt Altair's calculating eyes for the rest of the meal and had promptly hid in his room.

* * *

Desmond was difficult. Altair had tried almost anything to get the boy to open up, but all his attempt had been in vain. He even offered the boy to ask any question he wanted, but Desmond had just refused and literally fled into his room when their dinner was over.

 _Why is he so afraid? I don't expect him to trust me so soon, nor do I want him to confess his deepest and darkest secrets to me, but I can't even ask the boy for his favourite colour, before he closes up._ Altair thought after his latest failed attempt at starting a conversation with Desmond.

He looked over his shoulder at the hunched over form of the boy, who still refused to pull down his hood. Desmond was lazily typing on his phone, presumably with a friend of even with the social worker, whose name Altair had already forgotten again. Altair felt sorry for the boy. Something must have happened to him and Altair would bet all his possessions that it was not only the death of their mother. Something else had happened and Desmond had shut himself away as a consequence. Altair wondered, not for the first time since the boy was living with him, if he should take Desmond to a psychologist. He shook his head at the thought and returned his gaze to the dishes he was cleaning. Desmond wouldn't want to talk to Altair, his brother, why should he talk to a complete stranger? And Altair surely wouldn't force him to do it.

"Do you need help?" a quiet voice to his right asked and when Altair turned his head towards the source, Desmond was standing there, looking expectantly up at him.

"If you like, you can grab the rag and dry up." Altair answered.

Desmond nodded and they fell back into silence again.

"Jean is visiting today…" Desmond let the sentence trail off.

It took Altair a minute to remember that the social worker's name had been Jean.

"I thought the visit was supposed to be a surprise?" He raised an eyebrow

If Desmond wondered why Altair needed that much time to form a reply, he didn't comment on it: "She just wrote me… besides, it wouldn't be a very useful visit, if she stands before the door and nobody is home…"

"Good point. How long do you think she will stay?" Altair asked.

In truth he couldn't care less about the length of the social worker's visit, but this was the first real conversation he had had with the boy since Desmond's first evening here.

"It depends."

Altair almost sighed in annoyance at Desmond's cryptic answer: "Depends on what?"

"On you." He cleared his throat. "If you ask her about her hobbies, namely to make pottery and knitting, she will stay for the whole day; maybe even longer."

Altair snorted and shook his head in amusement. _This Jean is a very strange woman indeed._

"Don't laugh, I'm serious! During my 'probation' she showed me every single thing she ever made." Altair looked at the teenager, who grimaced and Altair couldn't stop himself from chuckling.

Desmond gave him a look as if he was insane, but the mental image of this woman dragging a annoyed and uncomfortable teenager through her flat and showing him her creations was just to priceless.

 _Maybe I should introduce Malik to her?_ This idea didn't help Altair to gain his composure again, but at least it was very amusing.

When he finally settled himself again, Desmond was leaning against the counter, watching him closely.

"Sorry."

Altair didn't expect the little smile that graced Desmond's lips. "I hope you fall right into her trap, than I am going to laugh at you!"

"I will be careful."

Fate however, wanted to teach Altair a lesson, because the moment he was cleaning the sharp knife, the doorbell rang and he promptly cut himself. He cursed loudly and was about to lick the blood from his palm, when Desmond grabbed his sleeve.

"Don't, it will get infected when you don't clean it… wait here, I just go open the door."

Altair could only look dumbly at the retreating back of his young charge. Not a moment later, he heard a female voice and Desmond came back into the kitchen. He brought disinfectant with and bandages. Altair just let the teenager do his work, it was the first physical contact they had and if Desmond was willingly giving it, Altair wouldn't deny it.

"The good news is that you won't die," Altair snorted, but Desmond continued, "the bad news is that it is rather deep… and you're ruining your floor."

"I also ruined your hoodie." Altair commented when Desmond began his work.

Desmond looked down at himself with confusion. The hoodie spotted a few little streaks of Altair's blood, but Desmond just shrugged.

"If it were the white one and not the blue hoodie I would be more worried, besides, it's you who has to clean it."

"Joy!" Altair said sarcastically and for a moment he could swear, he saw Desmond smile.

* * *

I hope you like this chapter! I am not quite pleased with it...

please, tell me what you think and leave a comment! ^^


	5. Art is in the eye of the beholder

5\. Art is in the eye of the beholder

Jean gasped in shock when her gaze landed on the few trickles of blood on Desmond's hoodie. She promptly dashed forward and took the boy's face in her hands and examined him.

"Oh god, Desmond! You are not hurt, are you?"

Altair rolled his eyes at the woman's antics. _It's not even much blood…_

The older male clearly saw the discomfort in his brother's eyes and decided to step in, "He helped me bandage a cut."

The social worker turned to Altair then, her eyes hard and searching for a possible lie. Altair held her gaze and folded his arms over his chest so that the sticking plaster was clearly visible. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on the taller male, but her focused soon turned back to Desmond, who got out of her grip while she was distracted.

"Well if that is the case… How are you Desmond? Do you like it here?"

Desmond changed a quick look with Altair, before he replied, "I am fine and it is definitely much better than the other homes I had to stay."

Altair huffed bemused. This was obviously Desmond's way of saying that he liked it here. _At least I hope it is!_

"Now don't exaggerate, dear. The Millers had been very nice, it was just bad luck that their son returned…" she let the sentence trail off, before she turned to Altair.

Desmond grimaced behind her back.

"What do you think about it, as the adult in the house?"

Altair was tempted to point that Desmond, with his fifteen years, was capable of answering such answers himself, but he stopped himself from saying it. He wasn't very keen on having such a conversation, so the golden eyed male replied, "As Desmond said, everything is fine. I think we understand each other pretty decent for such a short period of time."

Jean nodded and enthusiastically scribbled something down on her block. "Alright, that is good to hear. You know, I almost know nothing about you… what exactly are you doing in your free time?"

Desmond shook his head behind the slender woman's frame, but Altair – who didn't know what the boy wanted – ignored it, "Normally I do lots of sport, but I got hurt during a basketball game we played in college."

"That's interesting! You know, I prefer much calmer activities, like knitting or to make pottery."

Altair could have hit himself. _That's what he meant… great, now I have fallen for her trap. Damn it!_ When Altair looked up, he saw how Desmond had his face buried in his hands and he took pity with the boy.

"Desmond!" he said before Jean could continue her rambling, "would you be so kind to clean the rest of the dishes?"

Confused Jean looked between the two brothers and Desmond gave him a mischievous yet thankful smile, before he nodded and went back into the kitchen. The social worker once more scribbled something on her little note book and simultaneously continued to tell the golden eyed man before her, everything about her hobbies.

They had moved on the couch at some point and Desmond had entered the scene with something to drink for both adults. He unobtrusively handed Altair an Aspirin against the headache that had formed during the woman's rambling. The older man gave his brother a pained smile, which Desmond returned with a shrug and a look that screamed 'I warned you'.

 _Brat! …I am never going to speak with that woman ever again!_ Altair thought bitterly.

It was a few hours later when Jean looked at her clock and exclaimed how late it was and that she had to return home. Altair would have thanked god and everybody who would listen, but decided it would look back on his part and so he remained silent. He friendly accompanied the woman to the door and once she had left, he moaned loudly and sagged against the wooden door. A few moments later Desmond made his appearance and expectantly gazed up at him.

"How could you have left me alone with her?" Altair exclaimed, feeling betrayed.

"I already heard that at least five times, besides what would you have me done? Was I supposed to hit her with a pan or something?" Desmond retorted sarcastically.

 _He is getting bolder!_ Altair thought delighted.

"Yes, for example!"

Desmond groaned and facepalmed, "You cannot be serious?!"

"It would have saved me from a lot of pain," Altair said seriously.

"Well, I did warn you…"

Altair groaned, "This woman… I swear to you, I am never going to talk to her again!"

"If it makes you happier, I think she was convinced that I am in good and capable hands here… we probably won't be seeing much of her in the future."

"Thank the gods!", Desmond silently chuckled at the theatrical gesture Altair made.

"She isn't that bad…" it did not sound convincing at all.

"I did meet worse people!" Altair agreed, which earned him a earnest smile from his little companion.

"Well, I am hungry! Let's go and make something!"

"You are always hungry…" Desmond mumbled, but Altair caught in nonetheless.

"I am a man in my best years, I deserve my meals, besides you should eat more too, otherwise you'll remain this short!"

"I am not short!" Desmond exclaimed.

Altair only hummed, clearly not believing it. Desmond pouted, but obediently followed the older male back into the kitchen. He almost ran into the other male, when Altair abruptly stopped in the doorframe.

"Altair?" Desmond asked worried.

"I wouldn't have thought you really would clean the rest of the dishes," the man eventually said while turning to look at the teen.

"Well, you said I should and it would have looked suspicious if Jean had taken a look in the kitchen and everything were still tidy!"

"Hopefully I still find everything!" Altair teased and would have laughed had he not seen the teen's troubled look. "Desmond?"

"Have I done something wrong?" the teen asked worried.

 _Why would he think that? He had been happy just now!_

"No, of course not! I was merely teasing!" Altair tried to explain with a, what he hoped was, a reassuring smile.

Desmond fixed himself for a minute, searching his eyes before he visible relaxed. Altair mentally exhaled.

"Alright big boy, let's make something to eat!"

Desmond simply nodded in approval.


	6. Happy Holiday

6\. Happy Holiday

Altair Ibn-La'Ahad desperately wanted to cheer loudly once he escaped through the door to his college, but since this would have been highly embarrassing with that many other students around, he barely stopped himself from doing so.

"Glad that we finally have holidays?" a familiar voice said next to him.

"Why would you think that?" Altair replied with a sarcastic note in his voice when he turned to look at his best friend since childhood.

Malik Al-Sayf and he had been friends ever since the Altair had defended the slightly younger male from a bully named Robert de Sablé. It had not been pretty, not for Altair, and certainly not for Robert, who had suffered from a broken jawbone after Altair had been done with him. The French idiot promptly ran to his father and had cried to him, about how mean Altair had been. Thankfully there had been enough witnesses to proof the half Syrian's innocence.

"I don't know," Malik said, "perhaps because I know you."

There had been a time when he and Malik had not talked with each other. It had been the time when the younger male's brother, Kadar, had died during a car crash. Malik had blamed himself, he had sat behind the wheel after all. At least that is what he always said. The full Syrian himself had lost an arm during that crash and almost his best friend. The two of them have had a bad argument, when Malik had still been in the hospital, which had ended in screaming and insults, especially on the raven haired man's part. They had lost contact for a few months, until the point where Malik had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and apologized under tears. Altair too had apologized, he had spoken words that he regretted as well after all.

"Yes, you do," the golden eyed male replied easily.

"So," they were walking side by side to their vehicles, both of them possessed a car, even Malik, who had gone through therapy. "Any plans for the holidays?"

"Not really," Altair admitted, "I had planned to show Desmond a little bit around, tell him about the place and about the things he could do here. I also have to sign him in a school, I had thought about Southview High. He certainly has the brains to go to High school and he is old enough."

"That and the school is only a few metres away from our college, perhaps fifteen minutes on foot." Malik guessed.

"Yeah," the brown haired male nodded. He casually leaned against his car, an old and very well used Ford Mustang from 1965 in white. Altair had inherited the car from his grandparents and he took very good care of it. It was one of his most precious possessions.

"You could show him where you work, perhaps he takes after you and the two of you share the same interests," Malik suggested with a shrug.

"I don't know Malik..." he sighed, "Desmond is very... reserved, especially with physical contact." That was something that bothered the golden eyes male. There were only a few logical explanations for his brother's strange behaviour and he didn't like one of them. The thing was, they remained suspicions until Desmond revealed his past and that was another problem, he didn't.

"Go free running then, you used to do that lot. Perhaps he will enjoy that as well and there is not much physical contact, none really."

An old memory came to the front of Altair's mind. He saw himself, Malik and Kadar climbing an abandoned building. The three of them had always done such stupid things, hell Altair had even corrupted his Italian cousin Ezio to join them. In fact, he had corrupted a lot of people in his past, namely before he had to grow up and stand on his own two feet.

"I will think about it."

"Do what you must," Malik replied. "Just know that it would do BOTH of you good, if you get out of that house for once." As always Malik was absolutely right, not that Altair would say that out aloud. His pride was too important for that, besides, the other male's ego was already bad enough.

"Whatever," he casually waved that last comment away, "I'll see you."

"Bye," Malik waved and strode away, without doubt to his own car, a black Chevrolet. Altair was not sure which model, but he did not really care either, he had his Ford after all.

Upon entering his familiar home, Altair called, "Desmond, I'm home." He waited a few seconds and was surprised not to receive an answer or any other sign of the young teenager. Then he shrugged. Perhaps he was just listening to some music, Altair figured.

The college student got rid of his jacket and of his back and by getting rid of it, he just threw it on the table in the kitchen. He would clean it up later. A small note fell to the ground after the jacket had been carelessly thrown onto the surface and the adult bend over to pick it up.

It read:

 _Hey Altair,_

 _I'm exploring the path you told me about. I will be back for lunch._

 _I've got my phone with me._

 _Desmond_

Altair was more than satisfied with that. He had told his brother to always notify him when he left the house and he had done so, he had also remembered to take his phone with him, just in case. He briefly glanced at the clock that hung near the door. It was still an hour until lunch, more than enough time to prepare something and for Desmond to return home safely.

The adult slightly smiled to himself. He had told Desmond about the small path behind his humble home just yesterday. The path led to a small forest, nothing too fancy, but there was wildlife there. It had been one of the reasons, why Altair's grandparents had moved here in the first place. Altair himself had often enough wandered into the forest. He and his friend had built a small wooden shelter there, Desmond would undoubtedly find it, if it was still intact that is. It had been years since he last went there himself.

The golden eyes male shrugged, he had no doubt that his little brother would give him a detailed description of what he had found.

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It's been way too long until I worked on this story... but I had no real ideas or motivation to continue (up until now that is).

I hope you still like it and I would appreciate it, if you left a review and tell me what you think. ^^


	7. So close, yet so far

7\. So close, yet so far

Just as promised, Desmond DID return just in time for lunch. Altair was not amused though. The boy was completely covered in dirt and for a moment he thought about scolding him, but then decided against it. He knew his brother had lived through some traumatic experiences and he did not want to accidently trigger a memory, not when he looked so open and happier than the older male had ever seen him before. So instead of sounding like a disapproving parent, Altair sounded like an amused older brother.

"Welcome home Desmond and I see, you have brought half the forest," he made sure that his brother saw the smile on his face.

"Well..." he shuffled with his feet and looked embarrassed. "I found a tree house and wanted to investigate it..." he cleared his throat, "I fell through the floor."  
Altair could not help but laugh at the comical image. The tree house was old, even older than the wooden shelter he and his friends had built. Perhaps he SHOULD have warned Desmond about it, then again, young boys needed to make experiences on their own.

"As long as you have not injured yourself..." there was a questioning tone in his voice and he let out a relieved sigh, when Desmond shook his head. "Good... then go and wash your hands... and as much as you can without showering and then we eat, I made penne with pesto."

"Sounds good," said the teenager and he vanished into the bathroom and while he was scrubbing dirt and whatever else had landed on his face and hands, Altair prepared the table for them.

As soon as the younger brother stepped back out – he could actually be recognized again – the golden haired man motioned for him to sit down and he put a full plate in front of him.

"You know," the undergraduate began between chewing, "how in the world did you get up there in the first place?"

"That was not easy," he said in a serious voice and Altair found himself leaning forward in real interest. "I tried to climb the tree where it was built first, but it did not have enough branches so that I could reach the tree house. I looked around for a bit and found easier spots to climb up. When I was high enough, I could jump into the tree house and at first, it looked solid, but then it just gave up right under me. I was lucky it was not too high, though I KNOW how to fall properly."  
A humming sound escaped him. "Do you like to climb stuff?" Desmond nodded almost eagerly, but did not answer, he had his mouth full. "Have you ever heard of free running?"  
"Yeah," he sounded hesitant. "I wanted to try it once, but Jean said it was too dangerous and forbid it and my other families..." he trailed off.

"How about we go and make the city unsafe, just the two of us and I'll show you a few tricks. Also, I can show you around a bit."

"I don't know," he did not look too convinced and Altair blamed the memory of his past for that.

"I thought you wanted to go free running, what better place than a town. If you are scared... there is no need to be scared. I will be there the whole time and I will catch you, I promise." His golden eyes were firmly fixed on the younger male, who was poking at his noodles with his fork.

"I'll think about it." That was better than nothing.

"Do that, there's no need to rush. We have the whole holidays after all." His brother seemed to lighten up a bit.

After lunch, Altair leaned back in his chair, hands coming to rest on his stomach and head tilted back. "Damn, I think I ate too much, I guess you have to clean up."

"You are just lazy," complained Desmond, who stood up nevertheless and grabbed his own plate, before moving around the table to take the adult's.

It was a gesture born out of instincts, but Altair reached out with his hand. He ignored the boy's visible flinch and his hand came to rest on dirty brown hair. Affectionately, he ruffled through it and stopped only, when the teenager's body relaxed again.

Dark brown eyes regarded him with an unhealthy mixture of fear and distrust, as well as wonder. He did not understand, realized Altair.

"Come here," he said gently and he moved his hand to the back of the boy's skull and lightly pulled him closer. It was clear that it cost a lot of willpower for the teenager to allow himself to be pulled closer, instead of running away. His eyes were unsure, almost terrified, but Altair would not stop, not now. The older male was holding his breath just as much as Desmond was, but he did not stop until the teenager's forehead rested on his own.

The boy was as tense as a plank and starting to shake. His brown eyes were darting from left to right, searching for a way out. Altair made sure to loosen his grip just a bit and then he closed his eyes.

"Relax," he said gently, "I am not going to hurt you. See? Everything is alright."

He could feel the trembling start to get worse and he was debating on what he was supposed to do. He did not know if it were better to let him go now, or if he should take the risk of pushing the teenager too far and therefore away from him again. It was a great risk and the costs would be great, but it may be worth it.

"Hush Desmond. It's me, Altair, remember? Your big brother... you DO know what big brothers are for, don't you? We are here to protect our little brothers and to make sure that they won't be harmed. I won't let anything bad happen to you." He used his best calming voice, not sure if it would actually help.

 _Please, don't let this be a huge mistake. I don't want him to get scared of me, not after he had begun to open up._

It took a few minutes, but eventually the frantic breathing eased out again and the trembling stopped. Altair even dared to open his eyes again. His half brother still looked confused and highly uncomfortable, but at least he did not look as if he would bolt as soon as he got the opportunity.

It was Altair who twitched slightly, when he felt a pair of hands against his chest. They were not pushing, instead fisting in the material of his shirt. It was a beginning and a good one at that, especially when he moved his hand from Desmond's head to his shoulder and the said teenager did not move again. It was surprising and unexpected, but also a step in the right direction, Altair could feel it.

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	8. We can do everything besides living

8\. We can do everything, besides living...

"You cheated," Desmond exclaimed, completely sure of his statement.

"I did no such thing, you are just a bad player," Altair HAD cheated, but he didn't need for Desmond to know. Let the teenager figure out his tricks on his own.

"I bet you manipulated the dice somehow," the teenager grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pointedly away.

The older of the two could not help but chuckle at the cute sight, which earned him an evil glare that did not help to make Desmond look more intimidating, quite the opposite actually.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Altair too leaned away from the board game, which they had played, with a raised eyebrow and with his arms crossed, mimicking his younger brother.

"You made one side of the dice heavier."

The boy is good, though I wonder why he knows such things.

"Alright, alright, you caught me," the golden eyed male held his arms up in surrender. "But you are still a lousy player... and here I thought that there is no skill needed to play Parcheesi," he chuckled to himself.

Desmond huffed in response, he was still sporting that ridiculous pout. Then, his expression turned mischievously and before Altair had figured out what was happening, he found himself pinned to the ground, with Desmond sitting on top of him. It warmed the older male to see his brother so open with physical contact. He remembered the incident from a few days ago, when he had pulled the boy close and he had gotten all tense and defensive. That shy boy was gone now, at least with him. It was truly a good feeling to see how far they had already come.

Altair blinked up at his half-brother, before tilting his head back and laughing. He found Desmond joining in. It took them a while to calm down again, but neither minded really and the young Miles had yet to move off of his brother.

"Now what?" Altair dared to challenge. They both knew that he could easily escape if he really wanted to. He didn't, so he remained utterly still, watching and observing. Every movement and every reaction of the teenager was analyzed and mentally written down for later.

"I don't know, I didn't expect this to work... or you to remain still," he admitted, a little shyly, while avoiding the golden and penetrating eyes of Altair.

"Never had someone pinned beneath you, did you?" Desmond shook his head at the good guess. Altair was not sure about his next question, but he steeled himself and asked them anyway. "Did you ever had to defend yourself in the past?"

The trouble and fear that appeared in brown eyes was answer enough. All of a sudden, without any warning, Desmond jumped to his feet and ran out of the room. A door was slammed shut and without going to check, Altair knew that his brother had run outside, most likely without keys and without his jacket.

Golden eyes shut and their owner took a few deep breathes. He had known that he was scratching on a sensitive topic, but at some point, they needed to cross that line. Desmond needed to open up eventually, it was not healthy to carry such things around with yourself.

I was too forward. Altair mentally scolded himself. He now knew why his brother had problems with physical contact. It was also clear why Desmond was afraid of making mistakes. Altair shook his head and pushed himself into a sitting position, bedding his chin on his knees.

"But who did this to him?" it was the question that the young man had asked himself multiple times already. The signs of physical abuse were clear, the boy's fear and isolation was prove enough, as well as the unhealthy distrust, but it was still terrible.

Another sigh escaped the golden eyed man. He was thinking about consulting a psychologist. He was not sure if his charge would be open to see, let alone talk to a stranger, but perhaps he himself could get a few useful tips on how to handle a traumatized teenager, who probably just earned for someone he could trust and love, without fear.

"Oh Desmond," he stood up completely now and slowly moved towards the front door. On his way, he grabbed his and his brother's keys, as well as both their jackets. It was rather cold outside and it looked like it would rain later. Altair did not want his charge to catch a cold and just in case that Desmond did not want to return with him, he would bring the keys with him.

As soon as the wind hit Altair's face, the young man shivered. It was colder than he had thought and the boy was just in his hoodie.

"He probably does not even realize that it is cold," mused Altair. He was no stranger to traumatic childhoods. One of his cousins had been a troubled child as well, at least before he ran away and moved to the other end of the world. "I better hurry."

Altair was not amused. He had walked around since thirty minutes, shouting his charge's name and trying to call him on his phone, which was definitely turned off. He had yet to find a trace of the boy.

"Desmond!" his calls were getting worried. If something had happened to his brother, Altair would never forgive himself. Not to forget that Desmond would most likely be taken away from him. It would only cause another hit to the already traumatised psyche. "Desmond! Come on, answer... I know you don't want to see me right now and that's fine... but at least let me give you your jacket and the keys for the house. Desmond! I'm worried."

The golden eyed man added a few colourful curses under his breath, when he did not receive an answer, even though it did not really surprise him. He did not even know, where his charge had headed, though his instincts had directed him towards the little tree house that was hidden in the forest.

"DESMOND!"

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